Trust
by Arana Antonia
Summary: Just a little scene I thought should have been in the movie. The pteranodon attack on Main Street leaves Owen with more than a few injuries and Claire is the only one who can help- even if it is against her better judgement.


"Oh my god. You're bleeding."

Owen turned back to face Claire, whose eyes were wide as she stared at his back. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder and winced at the sudden pain. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dark red stain seeping through his shirt from the center of his back all the way down to his waist.

"Shit." He cursed straitening himself. "Can you see where it's coming from?"

Claire inched forward hesitantly, her eyes quickly scanning over his shirt, afraid to touch it less she aggravate the injury further. "No I don't-"

She was interrupted by Owen's sudden movement as he pulled his vest away and let it slide down his arms off of him. Then, gingerly, he lifted up his shirt so that his back was entirely exposed.

"What about now?" He asked through clenched teeth.

Claire inhaled sharply. Owen's back was a mess of blood and torn flesh- one long open scrape from the center all the way down to the small of his back.

"Yeah." She managed. "I can see it now." She paused, contemplating on whether or not to divulge any more information, but Owen apparently had all the information he needed

"Alright." he nodded, keeping his voice steady. He removed his shirt completely and tossed it aside before removing his undershirt and wrapping it around him.

"Hold that still." He ordered, holding both ends of the shirt out in front of him and gesturing to the cloth with his chin.

Claire winced and pressed both hands firmly against Owen's back. Instantly bloodstains replaced the light brown color of the shirt- turning it a deep red. Owen pulled the ends taught and tied the shirt off to form a crude bandaging. He reached down for his over shirt and hissed through his teeth when his back protested the action.

"Oh! Here-" Claire reached down and grabbed both his shirt and vest, handing them over a bit too quickly.

Owen held out his hand for the gun as well, but Claire shook her head and slung it on her shoulder.

"First Aid station." She suggested. "Over there." Claire pointed across the street to a small building squeezed between a souvenir shop and a snack stand. "You're going to need more than a dirty t-shirt to keep that under control."

Owen smirked and simply shook his head before rolling up his shirt and vest and tucking them under his arm. They moved quickly through the slowly dwindling crowd towards the station. For the most part, everyone was running _away_ from Main Street so they didn't have much in terms of obstacles.

Despite the current danger they were in, Owen couldn't help but praise the fact that he worked at a dinosaur park. Most theme park first aid stations had little in terms of actual medical supplies- being that the worst emergency they usually covered was heat related- maybe even a few minor scrapes and bruises.

But Jurassic World had several extra supplies due to the nature of their exhibits. Even herbivore teeth could crack bone if some poor kid decided to keep their hands too close for too long.

Careful not to extend his back beyond its limits, Owen rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out all the items that could be of use- peroxide, gauze, fresh bandages and a washcloth. Setting them all down beside the examination table, he turned and began patting his pockets.

"Figures I would forget where it was once I actually _needed_ it." He muttered.

"What are you looking for?" Claire asked incredulously.

"Aha!" Owen triumphantly pulled a small plastic container containing a needle and thread out of his back pocket and showed it to her. "Sewing kit." He explained. "For emergencies."

Claire opened her mouth to ask what kind of emergencies required the use of sewing when Owen removed his wrappings and lowered himself, stomach down, on the bed. He then looked at her expectantly.

"What?" She demanded defensively.

"Well I kinda can't reach back there." Owen said, tilting his head back. "I'm gonna need your help- as crazy as that sounds."

"Oh." Claire felt her face get hot. Of course he would need her help. She moved away from the entrance and approached the bed. His back looked even worse, with more blood accumulating in the wound and starting to trip down his sides.

"Peroxide first." Owen said gently. "We gotta clean it out."

Claire picked up the bottle and twisted off the cap.

"Believe it or not I know how to clean a wound." She replied, more forcefully than she intended.

Owen just chuckled.

Carefully, she poured the contents into the scrape- the liquid bubbling furiously on contact. Owen inhaled sharply as his back exploded in the weird- albeit still kind of painful- sensation. Claire paused, watching the clear liquid run down his back and off the sides- clearing away some of the blood.

"Good." Owen exhaled a laugh. "Now the kit-" he gestured towards the small plastic square and chuckled darkly. "Have you ever sewn before Claire?"

Claire understood immediately and dropped the kit. "Oh no- no no no no." She stammered. "I'm not- I can't-"

"Claire-"

"I'm not qualified to-"

"Claire..."

"Can't you do it?" Claire's voice rose in pitch- ending in almost a squeak. It was the most distressed noise he had ever heard her make. Sighing, he let himself relax completely on the bed- before attempting to reach backwards with both arms. The result looked kind of silly.

"Nope- I don't think so." Owen replied thoughtfully. "Unless you can somehow stretch my arms about two extra feet."

Claire pressed her lips together. Owen- apparently sensing the imminent backlash, turned his head to look at her.

"I need you to do this for me." He said, gentler. "I'll talk you through it."

"But I- I could-"

"Hurt me?" Owen chuckled. "I think I already did that."

Claire signed and picked up the container.

"You're sure about this?" She asked, flipping open the lid.

"Pretty sure." Owen replied. "Here, gimme the kit."

Clair handed it over and watched as Owen expertly threaded the needle and tied it off tightly. "There." He nodded, handing both items back. "Now you get to do the fun part."

"What part of this situation is _fun_?!" Claire demanded.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Just listen and do exactly as I say- you're good at that right? Listening I mean?"

Claire gritted her teeth but just shook the comment off. Instead she focused on the problem before her.

"Put the needle in at the top of the cut." Owen explained. "It's easier to work your way down on these things."

Claire hesitantly did as she was told- wincing as the needle penetrated the flesh.

"Good. Good. Now pull the thread all the way through- there you go. Now tie off the bottom there."

Claire worked the needle all the way down the cut- Owen talking through it the whole way. Finally at the end, he explained to her how to cut and tie off the thread again.

When it was done, she dropped the needle and stumbled backwards into the counter, grabbing the edge with both hands. Owen glanced back- she was white as a sheet.

"I can't believe I just did that." She said in a small voice.

Owen grinned. "You did great- the best doctor so far."

Claire snapped instantly back into defensive mode. " _So far_?!" She snapped.

Owen laughed and pointed to the rest of the supplies. "You need to lay the gauze on top now- just in case. Not that I'm doubting your handiwork or anything."

Claire scoffed and unwrapped the packages of gauze before laying a few squares down along the stitching.

She then grabbed the bandage roll and started to pull one end out. Owen motioned for her to lay the edge of the strip so that it ran down the middle of his back. She pressed it down- allowing it to stick before Owen slowly rolled over onto his back, forcing the tape to his side. Claire brought it down around his stomach tightly before bringing it around to meet with the other end- Owen rolling over again so she could complete the wrap. With the gauze now firmly in place- Owen sat up and took the bandage roll from her. He quickly wrapped his midsection a couple more times before ripping the piece away from the rest of the roll and tucking the loose end behind the tighter strips.

"There." He said, grinning and picking up his shirt. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Claire made a face. " _Normal_ people say thank you." she replied. Turning on her heel to leave the station, she was stopped when Owen's hand grabbed her arm firmly and turned her back around to face him. The grin was gone, and his blue eyes bore intensely into her green ones.

"Thank you." he said quietly, and Claire knew he wasn't teasing this time. He released his grip on her arm, but she stayed put.

Finally, she nodded. "You're welcome."


End file.
